


wake up where the clouds are far behind me

by hardlygolden



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:26:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardlygolden/pseuds/hardlygolden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Clarke deals with the fallout, Bellamy takes it upon himself to help. <br/>Of course, they don't talk about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wake up where the clouds are far behind me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onefootforward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onefootforward/gifts).



> ** Set post 2.08 - Spacewalker.

“Where’s Raven?” Clarke asks.

Bellamy’s eyes shift to the left, and it would be a tell except Bellamy hasn’t lied to her in a long time. He doesn’t lie this time, either - but neither does he answer her question - instead he just hands her a plate of food.

That’s okay. Clarke knows what he’s purposefully not saying.

“She doesn’t want to see me, does she.”

She wonders when she’ll stop asking questions she already knows the answer to.

Probably about the same time she thinks she can no longer change the outcome - so: never. Good to know.

There’s a pause, then - “Give her time,” Bellamy says, which isn’t an answer except for in all the ways that it is.

She knows what he means, though.

She knows he’d tell her to give _herself_ time, if he thought it would make any difference but he’s lived through those first days on earth the same way she did - every day a battle, survival something that had to be fought for, over and over and over again.

The sanctuary of the Ark feels like an eternity ago.

 _Give her time_. That’s what her mother had whispered to her, that first night: _These things take time, honey_ , - like those gentle words would erase the sound of Raven’s stricken scream, like the passage of a few days would wash the blood from Clarke’s hands.

Time makes her think of her father’s watch, and she forcibly stops herself from thinking any further on that that thought before she follows it all the way down the rabbit hole of memory.

It was exactly the kind of well-intentioned and useless advice he would have said, and she pushes that thought away with the rest of them.

It doesn’t help and it will only hurt.

Instead, she picks up the plate Bellamy gave her. It’s fish. She casts a sideways glance at Bellamy. She knows perfectly well that nobody else had the luxury of fish for dinner. They’ve been living off rations, everyone too scared to venture out for fresh food while the Grounders are still so on edge.

She glances down and sure enough, Bellamy’s boots are splattered with freshly dried mud, as if he’d been standing by the river recently.

She has her fork in hand, and she's reaching for a knife before she realises that there is no knife to reach for, and none is required because the fish is already cut up, in precise bite-sized portions. It’s the thought of him doing that, such a small gesture, that almost breaks her so instead of letting the tears spill, she hastily shoves a piece of fish into her mouth. “Ouch,” she mumbles, "it's hot," and they both pretend that's what's making her eyes water. 

She’s not used to this anymore - someone having her back, being by her side. Clarke has lived so long feeling like the people she loved betrayed her - her father, by leaving, her mother, for her part in sending her to earth. She knows, logically, that she can’t blame her father and Wells for dying, but she still blames them for leaving her.

Even Finn didn’t turn out to be who she thought he was - or rather, didn’t _stay_ the person she thought he was.

They’ve all changed - it’s just, in Bellamy’s case, he’s grown into the person he was meant to be, even as Finn grew further away from himself. She looks around the scorched earth and thinks of how the Grounders survived the radiation for a century, while the people of Mount Weather locked themselves away like a fairy tale, and all the while the Ark was circling far in the sky above.

She wonders if her father saw the earth, in those final moments. If he ever knew she'd wind up here. 

She doesn’t know how to put any of that into words, though, so instead she bumps Bellamy’s shoulder, in a brief gesture of camaraderie. He looks startled, and she wonders when the last time was that somebody touched him - and realises with a start it was probably herself, when she hugged him at the village. She remembers the way he stood frozen, as if unsure of his welcome, until he'd eventually put his arms around her, like he still wasn't sure if he was allowed. Like she was something precious.

It’s nice, being on the same side as someone.

 _So this is what he’s like when he’s not barking orders_ , she thinks. She wonders if he’s thinking the same thing about her.

She’s been trying to forge so many truces, holding them all together with her bare hands, and amidst all her failures surely this one has been her most successful - all the more so because of how surprising it has been.

Bellamy is the only one she can trust to be reckless when it matters, to know when caution isn’t going to be enough to get them out of this alive. He’s able to make the tough choices, and yet she’s also seen him show mercy she would never have thought he was capable of.

Bellamy grew up hiding his own sister under the floor panels - while Clarke and Wells spent their childhoods running free through the privileges of the upper ranks. Bellamy knows what it costs to survive, in a way she has only recently begun to learn.

“Clarke,” he says, and she cuts him off, because she just wants them to stay quiet for a while longer - she doesn't want to fight and she doesn't want to talk about her feelings. Not tonight. 

“Don’t,” she says.

It’s as she says it that she actually hears how hard her voice sounds - brittle because she is so close to splintering.

She’s proud that her voice doesn’t shake. Her hands are, though, just a little, and so she sets her fork down daintily on the plate. Maybe Bellamy doesn’t notice.

“Here, you should have some too,” she says, pushing the plate towards him, and trusts that he will recognise it as the peace offering it is.

*

She keeps busy.

For the next few days, Raven stays out of sight - and with the new leg brace that Wick made for her, she is well-equipped to duck behind corners whenever Clarke comes near.

Clarke is still faster - she could catch up, but she doesn’t. It's the only comfort she can give that Raven will take - to maintain this polite fiction of mutual avoidance. 

That is the only way she sees Raven now - a flash of dark hair, always just out of reach.

Clarke’s so busy concentrating on how distant Raven is, that it takes her longer than it should to realise what else is different.

Bellamy has barely left her side since that night.

His presence has become so familiar that she barely registers it anymore, and she wonders when exactly that happened.

She argues with her mother about the plans to save the others from Mount Weather; she helps to cut firewood; she sorts through the medical supplies; she sneaks into the weapons tent to run an inventory.

Bellamy stays with her for all of it - he doesn't talk, but he doesn't leave, either. 

*

That’s why she’s not surprised when she opens her eyes to see that Bellamy is there. She _is_ surprised that he's shaking her by the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, voice rough. She wonders when the last time he slept was.

“Hey,” she responds. “What time is it?” It’s daylight - she hadn’t slept much at all the night before, nightmares again, and when the rain had started it had made sense to head back into her tent and shut her eyes - just for a moment.

She’s already regretting that momentary weakness, because Bellamy’s waking her up, which means something has happened.

“Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep, Princess,” he says, and what should have been a casual comment is spoilt when she can’t help recoiling from the nickname.

“Don’t call me princess,” she snaps, and because she’s looking she sees the moment he shuts down and begins pulling away from her - it’s almost fascinating to watch, as if a shade is drawn on his face, and suddenly his eyes look blank, devoid of all emotion.

He looks like the person she used to think he was.

She was wrong about him, back then, which is why she offers him an explanation whereas before she would have let the misunderstanding lie. 

“Princess was the last thing Finn said to me.”

Bellamy inclines his head, a silent acknowledgement, and when he looks up, his eyes meet hers without flinching. 

She’s nobody’s princess, not anymore.

This time, she takes his hand when he offers it - it’s grimy with dirt, and hers is no better. They’ve both been through worse.

“Come with me. There’s something you need to see,” says Bellamy.

“What is it?” asks Clarke, even as she’s lacing up her boots.

“I wouldn’t have woken you if it wasn’t important,” said Bellamy.

No. He wouldn’t have.

A thousand scenarios are racing through her mind - her mother finally agreed to the rescue mission at Mount Weather; Monty escaped and has found them here; Raven Reyes finally wants to speak with her; the Grounders have reneged on the uneasy truce and are launching a full-scale attack.

She thinks she’s as prepared as she can be for anything - tense and coiled, ready to spring into action. She’s scanning the horizon even as she walks out of the tent, one foot in front of the other, staring straight ahead. 

“What is it?” she asks again.

Bellamy places a hand on her back and gently swings her around, facing north, and her mouth opens in surprise because of all the things she was expecting, it was never this.

It’s a rainbow.

“Have you ever seen one before?” he asks.

It’s a rhetorical question - of course she hasn’t, how could she have?

There’s a low whistle beside her - and then - “We sure didn’t have that in space,” says Raven.

“Raven,” Clarke says, and before she can say anything more Raven grabs her hand and squeezes it - fiercely. 

“Shut up,” she says, but there’s no heat in it, and a smile like the sun is breaking out across her face as she turns her face towards the sky. With her other hand, Raven reaches blindly backward for Bellamy, and they stand there, the three of them.

“It’s easy to forget sometimes,” says Raven, after a moment, “that it’s beautiful, too.”  

Clarke knows exactly what she means. 

“Do you miss the Ark?” says Clarke.

“Hell no,” says Raven, with a flash of teeth, and Clarke feels the same wild hope spring up inside her, sees it reflected in Bellamy’s sideways smile, because the truth thrums between the three of them.

The last thing she drew was a map of Mount Weather - for purely tactical purposes - and although half her mind is still ticking away at that problem, the other half of her mind is looking at the sky in wonder, the clear lines of colour, the way the arc is suspended in the sky, a vivid prismatic paintbrush. She remembers the way it once felt to create something from thin air, something beautiful; worth sharing. 

She's had enough destruction - she's ready for the beauty that emerges after the storm. 

The Earth doesn’t belong solely to them, but they belong here, the ground a solid hope beneath their feet and they're on the brink of creating something good, something new.

 


End file.
